Tuesday, 23 December 2014

Fear

You know, being down is easier. It's easier because it's normal, it's what I'm used to. At the same time that it's easier it's also impossible because I don't want to be alive any more and it's painful in mental, physical, and emotional ways. But it's easier. I know what to expect - even if dealing with it is astronomically difficult. Now that I'm "well"...things are harder. I live in constant fear pretty much of something, anything, affecting my mood and starting a downward spiral back into a depressive episode. I worry I'm not getting enough sleep, I know I'm not drinking enough water. I worry when my patience with the kids wears thin, I worry when Andrea and I seem to frustrate each other. I know it's going to come back, but I need to learn how to live the inbetweens not in fear but instead in appreciation for what I have in the moment. That is proving challenging for me.

I also haven't adjusted to being happy, being well. It's a wonderful feeling. I can actually feel the happiness in my body, physically, most of the time. But I'm not transitioned to it fully yet. It's like I have to re-get to know myself. I saw a video in which the guy speaking said the opposite of depression isn't happiness, it's vitality - and I realized how true it was. When depressed I don't want to, and frankly don't, do anything. Sometimes I want to do things, but I don't really, I can't make myself. Now that I am out of that - I have to find what I like doing again. The ECT has changed the things I like doing, it's changed who I am, so I have to get to know myself and find hobbies, and activities that I like. I know that means trying things, but I am so afraid of failing because what if the failure catapults me into another depression. I know the things I used to like, and I'm trying to pick those up again, but I am wondering what else is out there.

My whole family is having to adjust too. It's hard on everyone, and sometimes I forget that. Just like I have to get to know myself as a new person - so do they, and that's going to take some time.

This whole thing just sucks - I mean I'm glad I'm doing well now, and I'm sure my family is fine with making the adjustment because I am doing better, but really, I wish I didn't have to deal with any of this at all.

Wednesday, 10 December 2014

Stability?

I think I'm doing all right. For the majority of the last couple or so weeks I have been mostly stable. There is still the constant insulting and putting down of myself that goes on in my head but that's typical and normal for me. My moods though have been pretty constant - I think I might have found something that works. This prozac and latuda combo might be the one I've been looking for all along. However, about 1.5hours after taking it I get this extreme fatigue and exhaustion so I switched and started taking it at night so I wouldn't be falling asleep at my desk at work. It's only been a couple days of that change. Andrea is paranoid that it will change how it works, but I felt I needed to try.

Wiggers also sent in the forms for the Viassanna meditation course I want to take. He emailed me and told me I had two (or more) disqualifying conditions but that he asked them to make an exception because he thinks I can handle it. He really is a great doctor. I have the upmost respect for him.

I need to get a hold of my bitchiness - I feel I have been a bitch to most people, including myself, lately. I just feel so aggressive and cranky inside. Right now I am going with still getting used to being back at work - but I don't know how much longer I can use that excuse....

Thursday, 27 November 2014

I don't think I'm ready for therapy

I went for my intro session with a holistic counselor last night. He uses focusing, parts work, and core transformation to help guide people through things. He made some comments that made me think he wasn't a fan of people taking medication, and said he didn't have a lot of experience with serious mental illness. This kind of set me aback a little bit. I don't need someone to be an expert, but I want them to feel confident that they can help me - because I sure don't.

We did some focusing work. I found my happy place (I named it that), found some inner strength and asked myself what it was I wanted to work on. I was bombarded with things and overwhelmed with the shear magnitude of what seemed like all my problems. I didn't know how to pick just one. It felt like there were so many more problems than my storage of inner strength could handle. He asked me to go into that feeling and see what it wanted. It wanted to take all hope, to kill me, and to succeed into oblivion. So that's fantastic.

I realized though, that I am not sure I am ready for therapy. I don't know that I can count on myself to actually do the work that I need to do. For this, it's 15 minutes a day - and I know it doesn't sound like much, but I can't see myself actually doing that. Maybe it's because I don't think it will work. Maybe it's because I'm afraid it will. I don't know. I just don't want to waste time and money on something that I am not going to do the homework for. I'm not sure what to do here.

Monday, 24 November 2014

Ups and Downs

Oh My Life.

So I saw wiggers, and I lied to him, told him everything was okay and that I didn't want ect regularly, but would do it on an as needed basis. I told him where we had moved and he called my life idyllic. He seemed to happy that I was doing well and made the assumption that I was better before I even spoke. So I didn't want to disappoint him. I did email him later and confess, and still maintained that I didn't want ect.

I got quite bad, and quite low. I wrote a letter, it's in my drafts in my inbox, and is still there. It's the first time I've actually completed one, usually I just start them, but this time I did it all. I even tested out knives to see if any were sharp enough - they aren't. And then I chose to go upstairs and hold Andrea really tightly and ride out the awful feelings. And they passed. And now I need to make a place to get through another down. Every time they come - I get closer, and don't think I can get any closer than I was, I need some time to distance myself.

As a fun aside, I feel the beginnings of a hypomanic episode starting - which usually always indicates a crash when it's done. So I am trying to head that off and stop that. Even though I really enjoy the increase in energy, and the feel good feelings. It's nice to feel good, but I know it's not good for me in the long run. At least right now I know that. If I get 'higher' I may not know that, and may just want to ride it out like I have in the past, that's really not good for me. So I'm keeping tabs on it, checking my thoughts and actions.

This is my life - and it's exhausting. I emailed wiggers about that meditation course I want to go to and he said he would fill out the forms for me, so I put myself back on the waitlist. I also emailed several counselors and therapists and am meeting with one of them this wednesday - we will see what comes of that. I am not sure how I feel about doing therapy again - for a variety of reasons, but everyone things it will help me so I will try. I do want to get better, and in my better moments I believe it's possible. That's why while I'm feeling good, but not too good, I want to try to do everything I can and set up everything I can to keep myself this way. I am no help to myself when I am down.

Every day is another series of breaths.

Tuesday, 18 November 2014

Somethings Off

I have another appointment with Wiggers tomorrow. It's a follow up appointment. He said at the last one that he thought I may do better if he was keeping closer tabs on me, well, he didn't say it like that - but he feels he needs to be following me closer. So I need a babysitter.

Andrea says that it's night and day from my last appointment. And it is. I have had ECT twice now. I've been confused, disoriented, and just really not all there after both of them. My anxiety is back in full force, I'm a grown woman who is afraid of the dark, and the weird perception issue I have (I learned it's called Alice in Wonderland Syndrome) is back quite strongly and annoyingly. Yes, things are better. I am glad to be moved, I am glad to be working again to have something to fill my time - but really, I wonder what has changed?

I was laying in bed last night and I was realizing just how screwed up all of this is. No I am not suicidal, but what has changed? I still don't have a job that makes me happy. I still feel like I'm ruining my kids. I still feel like I'm ruining Andrea. I still feel like an awful person. All the bad things are still there. It's just like my brain isn't smart enough to bring them to the forefront anymore. It's like the ECT and the drugs just kill parts of my brain - they don't actually cure anything.

I'm aware my brain malfunctions. I am aware it doesn't work properly. But the thing is, it's my brain. This is how my brain is - and shouldn't it, on some level, be allowed to function in whatever way it was meant to function in? I think some people need to be on this planet or around just to serve as examples for other people, as a comparison point for their own lives. Not every person, not every brain can function the same. Maybe mine is just one of those that is meant to be sick. I feel less like myself when I am getting ECT or taking lots of drugs. I just feel like I am existing, and sure that may be better and easier - but it certainly doesn't feel like the right thing to be doing. Maybe this isn't my purpose. Maybe I'm doing the wrong thing. I don't know. I don't know anything except that no matter what I do it's never the right thing.

Wiggers will probably increase my dose of Prozac tomorrow. I'll probably be allowed to stop ECT for now and just do it on an as needed basis. Nothing will really come of the appointment tomorrow. I'll just tell him that I'm no longer suicidal and Andrea isn't as worried and doesn't have to stress about me as much anymore - and really it's those things that everyone cares about, not whether or not I feel like myself.

Monday, 10 November 2014

ECT Again *sigh*

So I had an appointment with Wiggers. I was as honest as I could be, but Andrea had emailed him as well, so he pretty much knew what was up. I actually expected him to commit me. I actually hoped he would to be honest. He didn't. I later in read in an email to Andrea that he didn't feel he had enough to commit me. I don't understand what more he needed. Looking back: I hadn't eaten in like 4 days, hadn't had water in like 5, was extremely suicidal. What more did I need to be doing? I'm actually concerned that if I ever get that way again that I won't go see wiggers because he wont be able to do anything. If he can't make me go to the hospital when I'm as bad as I was, what can he do?  All he did was put me on another medication, Prozac, and recommend ECT again. At first I refused ECT, then later in the day I sent him an email saying I'd do it. He got me an appointment for the next day.

I really didn't/don't want to do ECT. I lost a lot of memories, both from before and during my last treatments, and I'm even finding I'm having a difficult time holding onto some memories since my last sessions ended. Plus, I'm not really sure it helped all that much. But then again, I can't remember. Andrea tells me it did help until I out smarted it. So I went again. I was terrified. I don't know, I just really don't like the idea of exposing my brain to multiple seizures. No one really knows why it works, sure they have theories, but no one knows. I woke up from the anesthesia and was so confused. I couldn't remember where I was or what was going on. Of course I played like I did, because they always expect me to wake up coherent and everything. I laid there for a while and then Lisa walked me out to Andrea's waiting dad (whose house I was staying at). The anxiety started nearly instantly. I was afraid of the dark, afraid of being by myself, definitely afraid of sleeping by myself in a bed that wasn't my own. It was awful. There were times I could hardly breathe I was so scared. It wasn't anything Andrea's dad was doing or not doing, it just felt that awful. I felt that out of control. I eventually went to bed that night with the light on in the bedroom. I was terrified, I woke up every hour - and I know it was every hour because I checked the clock every time I woke up praying it was almost over.

I'm supposed to do it twice a week. Andrea is supportive of me having more ECT but because I outsmarted it last time she only wants me to have it once a week. I'm fine with that, it's less. I hate this. I don't want to go back. I don't want to do it again. I just don't want to.

I won't deny that I am feeling better than I was. But honestly, that could be the fear from having to go through this all again. Adrenalin and what not has been known to lift me out of a depression, until it passes. I'm concerned I'm feeling better just because I don't want to get it done again, and I'm scared, not because anything has really changed.

I mean, if I think about it, which I really try not to do, all the 'reasons' I was depressed before are still there, blatantly obvious - and I feel no different about them. I still feel as hopeless for my own future as I did before. Still don't feel like a good parent - at all. Still don't have a job and thus am not contributing to my family in any meaningful way. Life is still as bleak as it was. I guess the difference is that I don't feel suicidal - yet. I still don't really see the purpose of living the life I am living, but I guess I am willing to wait around for changes - maybe that's the difference. I don't know.

This is the final chance though. There is nothing after ECT. Wiggers obviously has no real control. I clearly don't have any control or much say over my own life, and what else is there to try? Maybe I should keep doing this ECT thing then. Keep killing those brain cells. Maybe I'll get so stupid I'll just stop having feelings altogether.

Tuesday, 4 November 2014

I dont want to need at all

I have this song stuck in my head for going on 3 days now..

All American Rejects "It ends tonight"

Your subtleties
They strangle me
I can't explain myself at all.
And all the wants
And all the needs
All I don't want to need at all.

The walls start breathing
My mind's unweaving
Maybe it's best you leave me alone.
A weight is lifted
On this evening
I give the final blow.

When darkness turns to light,
It ends tonight
It ends tonight.

A falling star
Least I fall alone.
I can't explain what you can't explain.
You're finding things that you didn't know
I look at you with such disdain

The walls start breathing
My mind's unweaving
Maybe it's best you leave me alone.
A weight is lifted
On this evening
I give the final blow.

When darkness turns to light
It ends tonight,
It ends tonight.
Just a little insight won't make this right
It's too late to fight
It ends tonight,
It ends tonight.

Now I'm on my own side
It's better than being on your side
It's my fault when you're blind
It's better that I see it through your eyes

All these thoughts locked inside
Now you're the first to know

When darkness turns to light
It ends tonight,
It ends tonight.
Just a little insight won't make this right
It's too late to fight
It ends tonight,
It ends

When darkness turns to light
It ends tonight,
It ends tonight.
Just a little insight won't make this right
It's too late to fight
It ends tonight,
It ends tonight.

Tonight
Insight
When darkness turns to light,
It ends tonight.
 -------------------------


I go see wiggers tomorrow. I have spent the last like 2.5 days in bed, only getting out when I have to. I haven't brushed my teeth. Haven't changed my clothes. What's the point? I'm not eating or drinking - I don't even feel hungry or thirsty when I'm around food or water anymore. Part of it is punishment for being such an awful person. Awful people don't deserve food. 

I wonder what the kids think? They don't ask about me a lot. They are probably used to my being broken. I am not the primary caregiver. I am not the breadwinner. I am nothing.

Andrea brought up, again, reapplying or challenging the CPP disability decision. But then what? Sure it alleviates *some* of the financial worry, but it also means I have to admit to myself that I am too broken to work like a functioning member of society. I know already on some level that I am - otherwise I would still  have a job. But to actually admit it. To be one of 'those' people who aren't even strong enough to fight the battles taking place in their own heads. That just screams failure. I already am one.

I don't know what I'm going to say to wiggers. Andrea said she is going to email or call him. I'm afraid of him finding out the truth. Afraid of being put in a hospital. I'm sure I belong there. I can't take care of my own basic needs, and I'm nearly always suicidal. It's unfair. I'm over this. What the fuck did I do in some past life to deserve to be so broken? Why am I not strong enough to fight this? This is all my fucking fault. All of it is. Every single piece of it. Everyone is miserable and suffering because of me.

Thursday, 30 October 2014

Failing in All Aspects

 I started taking my meds again. Actually, Andrea and I made a deal. I was incredibly suicidal for a few days, and had an active plan. The deal was I either start taking them or she was taking my to the hospital. I agreed to take them for a week to see if I felt any  better.

Truthfully? I'm not actively suicidal like I was, which I guess was the goal. But am I any happier? no. I pretty much live in a state of unhappy depression all of the time. Except when I smoke weed. Which I'm doing now. But it's all a fake escape. It's not real. The weed floods my brain with feel good chemicals. The prescriptions just do it slower. It's fake. But fake is, I guess, what everyone wants. Fake is easier. Fake is less worrisome.

Andrea asked if I had considered applying for disability again. I can remember that I was denied, but couldn't remember why. Apparently it was because I was trying ECT, and that would probably help so I wasn't seen as being that disabled. Some good ECT did. Just made me forget all the important things, and made me stupider. Here's the thing though. If I apply and am approved for CPP, then I can't work anymore. Which means staying home. I can't do the at home thing anymore. I suck at it. I don't enjoy it. I feel guilty all the time because I'm not even half the homemaker Andrea is. I need to work, otherwise I will sit at home on the couch and do nothing all day. However, I am nowhere near stable enough to hold down a full time job. I know this about myself. (The fact that right now I have to get one because we desperately need the money is so daunting). I'll end up being fired, or in the hospital, or something. I'm not reliable. I'm not motivated.

I'm essentially useless.

I can't stay home. I can't go to work. I can't do anything. I honestly don't know what the point in me being alive is. I try not to think about this fact too often because it's enough all on it's own to push me over the proverbial (or not so proverbial) edge. I don't know what to do with myself. I wish I had a purpose. I wish I was capable of being good at something. I wish I wish I wish. Truth is, wishing gets you no where, it's the doing that gets you places, and I can't do anything.

I applied for a total of like 16 jobs. Had a few interviews. Got none of them. Save for one that I got a training shift at and then decided I was too above it. That was a stupid move. Even a crappy minimum wage bussing job is better than no job at all.

I'm a failure. I'm failing at working. Failing at being a homemaker. Failing at being a mom. Failing at being a wife. Failing at pretty much everything. The only times I feel good are when it's inorganically induced.

I hate that I'm too much of a coward to do anything about it right now.

Sunday, 12 October 2014

Spiritual Health and Labels

I haven't taken my medication for going on two weeks. I have been doing a lot of thinking - when I can. I have been trying to identify things that have caused my illness(es) to get worse, and what could potentially help me fight them and get better.

I realized and have been wondering if that actual act of being diagnosed with something has convinced my brain that something is wrong and thus it acts accordingly. I don't remember (thanks ECT) how my depression really started. Andrea tells me things were bad and I spent a lot of time in the bedroom staring out the window - I don't remember this. I don't remember what led me to try Tap Therapy, or talk therapy, or then why I felt desperate enough to try a psychiatrist (who is awesome). I don't remember a lot of my illness even from this year. I don't remember what led to my previous (I believe 3) hospitalizations, and one of them took place 7 months ago. I wish I had these memories. I wish I had the ability to go back and examine what led me down those very desperate roads. What I'm left with is wondering why, say 6 years ago, I wasn't remotely where I am now. Yes, life has changed - but life always changes. There are always life stressors, relationships are always adjusting, things are always happening. Scientifically speaking, bipolar usually rears is ugly ahead in the mid-twenties - which is when mine hit - so I guess that could make sense. And when bipolar gets vicious, aspects of borderline also get worse - so maybe they are feeding off each other now.

I'm trying to distance myself from the label, distance myself from the drugs, distance myself from that whole side of things and see where my thoughts and actions take me. I will be honest, some days are scary - really scary. Most days are met with a general down mood and then if I can distract myself enough they get better. When I am interacting with people ('peopling' as we call it in my house) I get an adrenalin rush and that seems to hold me for a while. When I'm not distracted or busy my thoughts and feelings quickly head south - and when they are there any little thing (moving, career, relationships, the kids) can send me into a spiral of self hatred, suicidal ideation, and thoughts of running away and becoming addicted to some street drug to escape the world. I have managed, thus far, not to react to any of those thoughts.

Then there is the spiritual side of things. Not the religious side, but the idea of thinking of myself not just in terms of a physical body, and a scientifically functioning brain - but rather as something else as well - something intangible. That is one method of healing I haven't tried yet. I don't know how, though, to work through that side of things. I have done a lot of reading on meditation, especially vipassana meditation, and how that is supposed to help you get in touch with your more inner self and manage those negative emotions in a constructive way. I would love to try that, unfortunately the retreat that you go on you have to apply for, and given that they ask about mental illness I had to answer yes, which meant they sent me a form to be filled out by my doctor, and given the recent stream of emails I have sent him, I don't think he would fill them out in my favour. So I'm kind of stuck. I could try meditation on my own, but I really feel that given how logical and proof driven I am, I need something more intense, and someone to really sit down with me and direct me on how all these things are supposed to work and what exactly it is that I am supposed to be doing.

I have also considered bikram yoga again. I did it years ago. Yoga in and of itself is arguably a spiritual experience, but, again, you have the intensity of the extreme heat pushing you. I need something intense, it's the way I roll. Unfortunately for that, bikram yoga classes are quite expensive and we are not at a place where we can afford it.

So I am stuck. Big decisions need to be made regarding the direction our lives and our physical bodies are going, and I don't feel confident in making those decisions. I feel like I am along for the ride in my own life. Part of that is good, in the sense that i feel I will adjust and be the same wherever it is we end up, but part of that is bad in that I can't form any real opinions or feelings on what it is we should do.

So do I start taking my medication again? I mean, for the most part it kept me more level - but when I did get a down it felt, at least looking back on it and comparing it to now, that the chances of me acting on one of those negative lines of thinking was much greater, and that's a big risk to take. Without the medication, my moods are much more all over the place (at least so far), but the downs seem easier to handle, albeit more frequent.

I'm a prisoner of my own mind it feels. 

Saturday, 27 September 2014

Nearly Debilitating Realization

So, we've been trying to figure out for some time what it is we want to do with our lives, where we want to live, all the things that I think you're supposed to have some sort of idea on already - but whatever. So I voice my opinion, and then about 15 minutes later I realize that my opinion then was completely different than it was 4 days ago, and frankly, is completely different than the one I possess right now. My opinions, or wants are very fickle and seem to be every changing.

So I started to get down on myself quite quickly for a bit. The both of them went to bed, and I was left alone on the couch. Where I began to think. It was around then that I realized that I have never really done much reading on Borderline Personality Disorder. I mean, I have done some reading about it, but I had always assumed that most of my issues that were due to my being bipolar, and borderline was secondary. So I read. Then I read some more and more, and then I read more. I read scientific articles, I read personal blogs, I read articles in health magazines - I read it all. I spent a significant amount of time reading. It occurred to me that though I thought maybe I was ultra rapid cycling, that perhaps my moods, my fickle wants, my everything, are more due to borderline than anything else. And at this point, after an evening spent reading, and a night spent soul searching that this is the case. Nearly everything about borderline seems to fit with me; and its not like Im just pulling this diagnosis out of thin air, it was one of the things I was diagnosed with however long ago it was, and that and bipolar II often go hand in hand.

So now, now not only have I not accepted a bipolar diagnosis completely yet; I find myself having to embrace something else. DBT/CBT keeps coming up as a way to deal with the extreme reactions and emotions that plague me, but nothing seems to give any advice on how to actually make important decisions, how to actually find what it is that I want in my own head.

I have multiple fears actually writing this realization down. Frankly, it is taking every ounce of whatever strength I have not to grab some of my stuff and head somewhere else and just live homeless. I even researched being homeless in a variety of cities last night. I'd rather be somewhere else having nothing than subject my family to, well, me.

I suppose looking up homelessness in various cities is better than looking up various ways to kill yourself though....

Monday, 22 September 2014

All Over The Place

So this entry may be all over the place....

I found a new reason to stay alive when I'm feeling extremely suicidal. One of my daughters is very very much like me. I worry that because of genetics she will have bipolar too when she is older. That thought scares me to my core. It makes me hate myself more than I already do. However, I also want to be around to show her that you can get through it. I don't want to kill myself and then have her be diagnosed with bipolar and have the added weight of knowing that her own mother couldn't get through it. It has worked once so far.

I saw Wiggers a little bit ago. We talked about the fact that my mood phases seems to last a few days or even a few hours. I ultra rapid cycle. It's exhausting. When my depression hits, it isn't like a slow roll into the depths of despair - its a crash right into hell. I can go from being 'okay' to writing goodbye letters in a matter of hours. Its terrifying, and I don't know how to handle it. He recommended doing a CBT of DBT type of group to help develop some skills so that I can better deal with my emotions. He also gave me a prescription for some meds that will 'pad' me when I'm feeling suicidal. They will cover it up, and let me exist for a little while longer. My fear is that I won't have the courage or want to take them because I'll just want to die anyways.

I am beginning to think that I never actually dealt with having a mental illness. I find a lot of my thoughts lately are of how unfair it is that I have to fight for every moment, when really I just want to be like everyone else. I know every one has their battles, and as much as I would adore a stress free life, I know that's not possible or realistic. What I am positive of is that what I deal with on a near daily basis can't be normal, and it's not fair. I've never actually accepted that, and I think, until I do I wont be able to deal with this whole thing with any level of competency. I don't know how to accept though. I just keep wanting to fight it, wanting it not to be true, wanting it to all go away.

Tuesday, 26 August 2014

A child at heart

I'm essentially a child. I had gotten used, kind of, to the fact that I couldn't have access to my meds for my own safety. When I say gotten used to, I mean I had found a way to just not think about it too hard, to just accept it for what it is. But now, I've entered a hypomanic state. I'm not full blown manic - and it's fun. I feel happy, I have energy (I'm even knitting again!!!), it's great! And I talked to Andrea when it started and she agreed with my that my anti-crazy pills weren't needed. Granted she did say they weren't needed "yet" she didn't say not at all. So today, tonight, I guess I am displaying more manic up signs and she decided that I needed to take my pills now. Her and Craig agreed that I couldn't be trusted to make my own rational decisions, and that I needed to take them. I didn't want to. After every single manic episode I get depressed. I just got over a severely suicidal depression phase. I don't want to do that again. I don't think I can do that again. I want to enjoy being happy for once. I mean, logically, I get it. I'm a mom, I have multiple responsibilities, I need to be able to be trusted. When I'm manic - I can't really be trusted. But I ducking hate being treated like a child. Not only do I not get to be in charge of my own meds and have possession of them, but I don't even get to determine when and if I take them. At the end of the day I am not in control, I'm reliant on the damn pills. I'm sick of it. I want to be my own person, not weighted down by mental illness. 

I saw a shrink last week. I haven't decided if I'm going to back...

Sunday, 20 July 2014

Fat

I am fat. I am so so fat. Obese even. I've been trying to find suit pants and jacket for a new job but I'm too fat for anything. I need to lose weight. I don't want to be fat. Teo calls me fat (even though I know he doesn't know what the word means) and it hurts. 

I need to try, while I'm feeling decent, to lose weight. I need to start good habits now so that they are habits when I'm feeling down. Maybe it will help keep me level, keep me normal. 

I'm really trying not to let this weight thing get to me. I'm really trying to stay as positive as I can, but I also know that putting any attention on my weight has a tendency to bring me down, which is why I often just ignore it. I avoid my triggers when I know what they are. I can't keep avoiding this one, but how can I put attention on it and focus on my weight without letting it drag me into depression again. 

I don't know what I need or how to do this. I know for my physical health and sanity I need to lose weight, that's about all I've got right now...

Monday, 14 July 2014

I'm letting down the one person who has believed in me and held me this entire time.

It's all gone

What's the point

Thursday, 3 July 2014

Failure

Things are not going well - speaking bluntly. I feel trapped, alone, and hopeless for the most part. I did have a good day yesterday - which is the first one in god knows how long.

I am sitting on the verge of a manic episode, I can feel it there, and it comes out a little bit sometimes, but it's not fully taken over me yet. This must be what they call a mixed episode - because even though I'm heading towards mania, I'm still suicidal. I had a plan, method, and opportunity the other night - but Andrea stopped me. I was angry at first. How long am I supposed to hang on? Supposed to feel like this?

I went to see Wiggers on Monday, and was absolutely honest with him about everything i was feeling. He gave me divalproex to scare off the mania, and told me to come back next week. He is doing all he can, I really do have faith in him, I just don't think this is every really going away.

The memory loss from the ECT is getting so much worse. There are huge chunks of my life that I don't remember, and yet, ones I'd like to forget are still hanging on. I realized yesterday that I don't remember this past Christmas, like at all, I don't remember really any Christmases with my family. I am beginning to forget things that are making me feel quite awful. What kind of mother or partner can't remember certain things about their kids' upbringing. I don't remember when or how Kahlan or Teo started walking. I only remember Remy because there is a video of it. I don't remember how Andrea proposed to me. And the shitty part is, ECT isn't really even working anymore - or maybe it is and I'd be a lot worse without it, that's a scary proposition.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to try. I'm on the waitlist to try the DBT therapy again, it's supposed to be the best form of therapy for bipolar and borderline. However, it's two days a week, and I believe (if it still starts at the same time it did before) its at 2:15 and it's in Nanaimo. How am I supposed to get and keep a job if I have to leave twice a week right after lunch? *sigh*. We can't afford for me not to get a job. I have to work.

I'd like to try an intensive meditation retreat. However, vipassana, the one I want to try, says in multiple places they don't really like taking people with mental disorders. So am I supposed to lie, or just give up that idea?

Andrea is getting fed up with me. Not with me per se, but with what she perceives as a lack of trying on my part. She's all I have. She is the only person who I feel I bring a modicum of good to. My kids would be a hell of a lot better without my impatient, yelling, unfeeling self.

What do I do? I feel I've run out of options, and time. The time I had was when i wasn't working, and now I have to go back to work and I wasn't able to figure things out. I feel like such a complete and utter failure.

Tuesday, 13 May 2014

Forgetful and Progress

The memory loss is really getting worse. It's not that I can't remember my kids' birthdays or anything, it's little things. You would think that it's better that it's not big things, and maybe it is, I don't know. What I do know is constantly forgetting and having to be reminded of things every day makes me feel so broken. It's one thing to do it with Andrea or even Craig, but just the other day I completely embarrassed myself by not remembering that a friend at school had already told me she was pregnant weeks ago - so I was all shocked and amazed when I already was supposed to have known. How am I supposed to be a capable person if I can't trust my own head?

I had a major meltdown the other night. I had been feeling especially hopeless. My suicidal thoughts were more logical, and seemed the right thing to do. Up until that night I had tried to keep just how close I was from Andrea, but by what I was saying and the fact that I asked her if she'd ever give me her permission (as that was the only thing holding me back), I think she knew. She got rightfully upset and angry. I lay awake and slept off and on that night. The next morning things were tense between us, I went for a drive and did some thinking. I don't believe I can choose to be happy. But I do believe I can make myself do things that have the capacity to make me feel happy. I am trying this. It's been two days. It's working so far. I'm not feeling suicidal. I still don't feel 'happy' but, it's an improvement.

I'd really like to go to a meditation retreat. I can't exactly explain why I feel such a pull to do this, but I just feel it so desperately. There is a free one but it isn't until October and that's a long time away. There is another one that's much sooner but it costs $350, and I simply don't have that. I just feel like it would be so so good for me, and would help me so much. I feel like it's something I have to do, if that makes any sense. 

I'm having some, what I think are side effects from ect. I'm losing feeling in my right hand quite frequently, and am having perception issues - where things feel way bigger or way smaller, or closer or farther away than they actually are. 

I don't know if ect is working anymore, but I'm afraid to find out. I feel like it's actually damaging my brain, and that scares me too. I feel so lost when it comes to my own treatment - like I'm just along for the ride. I need to get some control back. 

Saturday, 3 May 2014

Worthless

So I went to that walk in Counselling at the health unit the other day. The guy I saw was nice but I don't think it really helped anything. He suggested that I would feel better about my life and myself if I had a job again - because I would feel I had a purpose. 

I'm not sure how I feel about that. I mean I'd like to feel like I have a purpose, but I don't recall feeling like I had one when I was working. I felt like my purpose was to bring home a paycheque, but didn't really feel like I was valued where I was, at least not by myself. 

I don't know what I can to. I'm not doing this home thing very well, like at all. It's like I've forgotten how to be a stay at home mom. I'm doing more harm than good here, but there is nowhere for me to go. I have no skills. 

I went to the duncan farmers market this morning and talking to people put me in such a good mood. I felt lighter and happier, and just full of joy. I think I need to work somewhere where I am able to talk to people in person. 

Andrea wants to make and sell things. That would be tons of fun, but what would we sell? I don't feel we would make anything good enough, well I know I wouldn't, Andrea definitely would, I could sell her stuff. She has drive and motivation, I just want to sleep all day. She has the ability to learn new skills, I can't even get adequate at things I already know. All I'm good at is talking, that's it, that's my only skill. 

Going to counselling didn't help. The dbt group has a four month wait list. And ect is ruining my brain. I'm becoming more and more broken.

What's the point? 

Saturday, 26 April 2014

What's worse?

ECT is effecting my memory - in an extreme way. It is also changing who I am, how I feel, and how I think about things. I am not the same person I was before I started. In a way I suppose that's a good thing. I was a depressed miserable person before. But having who you are change without you doing anything is very scary and very hard to get used to. I lose my patience more, I get frustrated easier. I'm taking both of those out on the kids and Andrea and that really isn't fair. I didn't know who I was before, but now I really don't know who I am. All I know is that I am alive, and not suicidal every day any longer.

Suicidal thoughts come into my head still. Having that one bout a couple of weeks back really shook me, and i think made it possible for those thoughts and feelings to keep coming back. I am not suicidal, but I still don't believe I am worthy to be alive. I still believe I am destined to die young. It's like ECT is working, but I am just waiting for it to stop working. I honestly think I need some therapy or something. I think I need to work through these thoughts and feelings. The meds and the shocks are doing their job - I just need some help to do mine. We can't afford therapy though, it's bloody expensive. I think they have walk in counselling sessions at the health unit, I think you're allowed 10 of them. I think I should go and make use of those.

It's frustrating. To the outside person, to the people that don't know me I'm fine. I am a high functioning mentally ill person. It's hard. If I stopped functioning. stopped leaving my house. Stopped everything - people might actually believe there is something wrong with me. But I am able to hide my dark thoughts and feelings. I am able to contemplate and make a plan to kill myself while I'm cooking dinner or grocery shopping.

I don't know. I just wish this would all go away. I wish this would stop. I wish I could go back to a time where I didn't have all of these thoughts and feelings. I just want to be normal. I just want a day where I don't have a giant black banner in my head screaming at me how worthless I am. I need to learn to love myself, and unfortunately, ECT can't teach me to do that.

Saturday, 12 April 2014

Set Back

I fooled myself. It's my own fault really. ECT made me feel so good. I was happy. I, very very very naively, let myself believe that ECT would act as a cure for me. It's not a cure - it's a treatment. There is no cure for Bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder. I am stuck with this sentence for life. The other day I crashed, and I crashed straight into suicidal territory. It's where I go - I go big. The fact that I was able to crash, caused me to crash more. I realized that it's never going to be all better. I will always have this. I will always be battling depression. I didn't want to do it anymore. I didn't want to be a burden on people. This already must be hard enough on my kids and my family. I wanted to end it all. I very nearly did. The sole reason I didn't was Andrea. She doesn't realize how often she saves me. There is a part of me that still believes that my kids would have a better life without me. They, by virtue of being my children, are stuck with me as long as I am alive and not abusing them. Andrea, on the other hand, chooses to be with me, knowing full well what I am and what I have. It is for her that I keep trying.

I feel better now. I'm not as happy as i was a few days back, but that's okay. What I need to do is get some hobbies and activities that fill my personal cup. I need to get some coping mechanisms. I need to learn how to handle my emotions and failures. I am going to sink into depression again. Even now I can still feel it sitting there, waiting, but it doesn't have to be my whole life. I don't have to let it. I just have some learning to do.

Monday, 7 April 2014

Hope

People say it's a barbaric treatment, ECT. You know what, if you think about it - intentionally shocking someone to induce a seizure, it is. It's a violent treatment option. But bipolar and borderline are violent mental illnesses. They may not rock my body physically, but they take everything from me. They ruin me. They ruined me. ECT works for me, it is working for me. I feel hopeful again. I feel rejuvenated, re-energized. I don't know if I feel like the same person I was before, but I am beginning to be okay with that. Andrea and I are able to make goals and hopes for the future, I am actually able to see a future for myself. Life doesn't always have to be suicide and depression. Yes, I still need to learn some coping skills for my emotions, and I am hoping to start the DBT for that, but it's wonderful to be at some sort of baseline. It feels beyond baseline, I feel elated, It almost feels like a high. Is this what happy feels like? I am not expecting the wonderful feelings I have now to last forever, I know they will fade as I get used to my new normal, but I don't want to ever, EVER, take this for granted. I have been in some very deep dark places, and I don't want to ever forget that. I have put my family through hell, and while I am not nor will I ever be cured, I can start to make up for that. Wiggers seemed surprised at how well I was doing, and was impressed that I had responded so well to this, considering they don't normally do it on people so young. Screw age. Meds weren't working, talk therapy didn't work. I was losing everything, and had already lost myself. This is wonderful. 

Saturday, 1 March 2014

the sharp knife of a short life

I have no identity. What little identity I did have was wrapped up in my job. It was what i did, who I was. it was my responsibility. I have no hobbies, no interests, no nothing. I am no individual. The only thing I had was my work - and now I have lost that.

I have completely lost myself. Completely lost it all.

I have no idea how to get through this. No idea how I am supposed to survive, let alone carry my family at the same time. I barely have the energy to get myself through the day let alone parent the children, clean the house, and be a better partner. On top of that, we need to decide what direction our lives are going. How do I make those decisions? I learned the hard way not to make decisions while depressed - enter the wharncliffe house. But right now, decisions HAVE to be made, and I have to be a part of them. How do I make rational decisions when my thoughts aren't even in the slightest bit rational?

I hate everything I have become. everything I am.

Its a struggle. I feel like no one understands. Everyone wants to help, and I want them to help, but I dont know how. I feel beyond help. I feel lost in my own breath.

I feel so bad for Andrea, she has to deal with all of this, all of the everything. Once again, I will never, ever, be able to make this up to her. I worry about ever feeling like her equal when I feel so much below her.

I feel flawed, in every sense of the word.

I have let so many people down. I was supposed to be successful in whatever I decided to do, and I have failed in everything I have tried.

I want dreams, I want hope, I want to live again.

Saturday, 1 February 2014

Resignation

I don't like my body, I don't like my mind, as a result I neglect both of them and treat them very poorly. Ironic, though, for if I would put the time and energy into my mind and body; if I DIDN'T neglect them, they would be healthier and I would probably like them.

I have become stagnant. I have settled. I am what I am. I feel broken, mind and body. I feel that I have tried so many times and so many things and still remain broken that what is the point in continuing to try. Trying leads to failure, always, in this situation anyways. 

I am fat. I am overweight. I am clinically obese. I have about 5 shirts that fit me. 4 of them are men's L or XL and 1 is a women's 2X. I have two pairs of pants - one of them maternity pants with holes. My XL underwear I bought don't fit. I am huge. I am giant. I hate it. I hate every part of it. There is a deep sense of self loathing. There is nothing about my physicality I remotely appreciate. I used to try things to make it better. It never got better. Instead I felt worse, I felt both fat an like a failure. Now, I just feel fat.

My mind is broken. I am bipolar. I process things differently then the average person. I am constantly trying to keep negative thoughts under control and in check. If I'm in a good mood I am hyper aware of any possibility that it could be mania. There is no normal. Everything in my brain is a struggle - daily. No one understands that. It's a very lonely feeling.

I do not like my mind and body. In fact, I hate them with every piece of my being, I do not think I could hate them more. But I have resigned myself to this now. These are my cards in life. At least I no longer feel like a failure. 

Thursday, 2 January 2014

Self Loathing

I was going through my notes on my phone looking for my student loan number, who by the way took $300 from me this morning, and came across a note where I was keeping track of my weight at the beginning of last year. On January 2nd 2012 I weighed 182.8lbs. That means in a year, exactly a year I have gained over 20lbs. To get to my goal weight to lose nearly 100lbs. I saw pictures of me wearing the kids (yes all of them, even the 50lb+ boys) and was horrified at how large I have become. I hate myself and the way I look. I absolutely hate it. There is no dignity or respect in the way I look now, there is only shame. I am embarrassed and ashamed.

Add to that that I got demoted at work, kicked out of school (though that was due to my work not paying my tuition), can't afford the house, have to move, feelings around being an NGP and my life just sucks royal ass right now. If I didn't have the love I do from Andrea and the kids I don't where I would be.

All I want is to be happy. Happy with what I have, working towards better. It seems so simple.